


Common Ground

by smolandgrumpy



Series: Something Just Like This Saga [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Winchester In Love, Dirty Talk, F/M, Jealous Dean Winchester, Mobster Dean Winchester, Mobster!AU, Possessive Dean Winchester, Soft Dean Winchester, making up sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:14:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24388765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smolandgrumpy/pseuds/smolandgrumpy
Summary: Dean does know that he’s being loud. But understandably so. Which guy wouldn’t react the way he does when his girl tells him that she wants to fucking pose nude for her class to see.But he's not mad at her.He never is.A scene from Something Just Like This. I don't think it can stand alone unless you're only here for the hot stuff.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/OC, Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean Winchester/You
Series: Something Just Like This Saga [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1736623
Comments: 3
Kudos: 35





	Common Ground

**Author's Note:**

> I decided that I'm going to add little scenes whenever I feel like writing one. I hope you enjoy. Please let me know if you want to see something written.

“You have to do what?” Dean hisses loudly, and almost fucking grips the steering wheel too hard, only missing sending them onto the sidewalk by a fucking hair. The near miss made her flinch.

He does know that he’s being loud. But understandably so. Which guy wouldn’t react the way he does when his girl tells him that she wants to fucking pose nude for her class to see.  It’s not like it’s her job? It’s not like she has any business being naked in front of anyone? Sometimes he thinks that he knows why he never wanted to commit himself to anyone. Because of these kinds of things that get his blood to boil. 

“You’re mad at me,” She states but doesn’t look at him. 

“I’m not mad.” Dean replies. He’s not mad, not really. 

“You’re annoyed.” 

“Damn right I am,” He agrees, because how can he fucking not be?

“I wanna do it,” Y/N says with a shrug of her fucking shoulders, like it’s not fucking big deal.

“No.” His voice is louder now, if that’s even possible. 

“Dean,”

“Don’t Dean me,” He scoffs, braces his left elbow on the window and continues to drive, gripping the steering wheel too tight, his knuckles are turning white. He brings his left hand to his face, gnaws on his index finger before rubbing himself over his scruff. He can not look at her right now. He’s too annoyed. “Why are you telling me this now, while I’m fucking driving? We were at Bobby’s. You could have told me then.” 

He knows exactly why she didn’t say it while they were at Bobby’s. It’s to avoid a fucking scene and he can’t blame her because he would have caused one, for sure. 

_ Sometimes _ , Dean thinks,  _ sometimes it’s terrifying that she knows him so well _ .

Thankfully, they round up the corner to his apartment and Dean’s driving into their parking garage. He parks with a screech, kills the engine and twists his body to look at her. She’s not scared of him, not one little bit. And he would never admit it but he kind of admires that. 

She’s not like the other wimps working for him, who would crawl towards him, begging. She can stand her ground, and he knows that it’s exactly why she’s the one. 

“Totally naked?” He asks again, just to be sure he heard her right. 

“To the bones.” Y/N answers as if it’s the most natural thing in the fucking world. 

“Why?” 

Her eyebrows rise up her forehead, as if she’s offended, “Why not?” 

It actually started after they had dinner and Dean asked her if she wanted to go to have a drink because Cas and Gabe were at a bar. She said no, because she has art school tomorrow and she needs to go in early because she’s the model. Dean didn’t think anything of it, but then in the car, it turns out, she’s going to be a fucking nude model because the model the school hired got sick. Now Dean’s getting fucking sick just thinking of her standing — or worse, laying there, butt naked so the other students can fucking draw her. 

“Dean, it’s really no big deal,” She says in her calm voice and he hates that. Hate that she tries to reason with him when he has all the fucking rights to be unreasonable in his eyes.

He gets out of the car, slams the door shut and paces around in the garage. He has to walk it the fuck off. 

When he’s a safe distance away, she gets out too, stands next to the car and crosses her arms over her chest. Dean doesn’t have to look to know that she’s grinning like a fucking idiot at him. He doesn’t walk over to her yet. Walks around some more. For fucking good measure.

“Dean, it’s not like I’m laying around, spreading my thighs. I’m standing there, letting my classmates draw me.”

When he knows that there’s no avoiding her anymore, he walks straight to her, lowers himself so he can look her in the eyes, “You make me sound like a possessive asshole.”

“Which you are.” Y/N pouts and that’s not fucking fair because she knows how that pout affects him. 

“That’s not the fucking point,” He scoffs, and places a hand on the back of her neck, fingers spreading wide, his thumb caresses her jawline. 

She grins, raises one eyebrow, “The point being?”

“You’re there, naked and I’m not there.”

“You could always join m—”

He cuts her off with a kiss, doesn’t need to hear bullshit out of her mouth. Dean parts, leaves his forehead on hers, “If you want to do it, fine, but I’m gonna stake my claim.”

Picking her up by her thighs, she hooks her arms around his neck, her feet behind his back and she kisses him back. It’s rough and deep, it’s tongue and teeth, it represents his mood. 

Dean walks her to the elevator, pushes her against the wall when he’s in, and his hand goes around her ass, fingers feeling her wetness because she’s a fucking tease and didn’t wear any underwear. Just a dress that’s barely long enough to cover her fucking ass. He hates that he loves it.

He let’s go of her ass, his hands working on his pants and zipper, pulls his hard cock out of his underwear and threads the tip of his dick through her slick. She moans into his mouth, bites into his bottom lip when he pushes in. 

It’s a tight squeeze, she’s not nearly as wet as she normally is with a lot more foreplay. He closes his eyes and she digs her nails into the shoulder of his suit jacket. The deeper he goes, the more she moans.

“You okay?” Dean asks, has to make sure. He has the obsessive habit of always having to make sure that she’s alright. 

Y/N nods, kisses the tip of his nose, “So good, fuck—”

The elevator dings to signal their floor before Dean could even start to fuck her. He walks out with his dick still up her sweet cunt, walks to the door and fishes the key out of his suit pocket. 

Opening up, he walks straight to the bedroom and into the en-suite bathroom, and she’s squirming above him because he doesn’t fucking move and is holding her tight, preventing her from bouncing on his dick. 

“Dean,” 

Ah, so now she’s begging. He chuckles to himself. 

“Not yet,” He breathes out, it’s takes all of his willpower to not just fuck her against the wall, if he’s honest, “Turn on the faucet. We’re taking a bath.”

It’s really their  _ go to _ . And it’s weird to think that everything will get better when they take a bath together, but miraculously, things do get better when they’re in there. 

While the water is running, Dean holds her up with one hand, his other one is pulling at the seam of her dress, pulls it up and over her head before his hand goes to her back and unhooks her bra.

As soon as her boobs are freed, he dives in, one hand holding one of her tits, kneading it while he rolls the peaked nipples between his fingers. His mouth latches on the other one, sealed wide around it, sucks and brings the nipple between his teeth. She yelps up, the sound goes right to his dick that stirs inside of her. 

He works his way up again, licking a broad stripe up her chest, tastes the faint bitterness of her perfume, “Undress me,” 

Y/N does, her hands come to the front and he’s holding her up with both his hands while he watches her pushing his jacket off his shoulder. Slowly, he releases one arm after another, helping her get it off. 

Her fingers work on his tie, pulls it over his head before she starts to work on his buttons. When the shirt’s off, she places her hands on his chest, her palms ghosting above his heart. The touch is feather light. And he knows that she loves to feel it, to make sure that he’s affected as much as she is, and he knows that he is. He always is. 

She kisses him then, soft, gentle, her hands skim over his chest and Dean curses into her mouth when she tweaks at his nipples. He’s always been sensitive there and she giggles because she knows it. 

His hands move between them, finally getting out of his pants, almost trips and falls with her when he tries to get out of his shoes. That would have been weird to explain their injuries to Sergei.  _ We trip and fell while we were having sex in the bathroom _ . He’d rather not explain that.

Y/N ditches her heels too, what a pity really, because he kind of likes to fuck her in them. In only them. But that kink is for another time. 

Dean sits down on the ledge, and he kisses her again while he is taking off his socks, almost losing his balance. 

When they’re both naked, he finally steps into the tub, sitting down with her on top of him. She twists her body while he holds her by her waist, holding her in place so she wouldn’t accidentally slip out when she turns off the faucet.

Y/N’s about to bounce on him but he still holds her in place and she squirms, writhes above him. 

_ Fucking needy little thing.  _

Dean has to chuckle, before he gets serious. “I don’t like it. Not at all. But if you want to do it, then I’m not going to stand in the way.”

“Good,” She breathes out because Dean buckles up a little, just because he’s a little shit. 

“But I gotta let anyone know that you’re mine.” 

She frowns, but he just grins cockily before he pulls her down by the back of her neck, latches his mouth onto her throat, right above her shoulder. He sucks at her skin, draws blood to the surface, marking her the way only he’s allowed to. 

He knows that he’s immature about it but that’s just how he is. Nobody messes with what’s his.

“Are you okay with that?” He asks her when he pulls back to admire his own work, fingers skimming over the red and raw mark.

Y/N nods, teeth pulling at her bottom lip, and then she whispers, “More,” 

God, Dean loves her, alright. Loves how she’s in this as much as he is.

“More?” He plays along, raises his eyebrows, buckles his hips up, hitting her so deep and she throws her head back, closes her eyes at the momentarily good feeling.

“Yeah, please,” She whimpers, “Want them to see tomorrow,”

“Jesus,” He chokes out, fucking up a little more, the water splashing around them, “You’re goddamn perfect,”

Her eyelids are heavy, she’s so close already, he barely did a thing. His hands go up, kneads at her tits, slaps down on them hard, fingers tweaking at them, making her arch her back and grind down harder on his dick. 

“Come baby, come on my cock,” His own voice is strained and he has to compose himself.

One of his hands go below and into the water, fingers rubbing at her clit and she comes all over his dick, her eyes crossing and she’s shaking. Dean has to hold her with one of his arms tight around her while he continues to fuck up into her, fuck her through her orgasm. 

“You like that idea, huh?” He asks when she comes down from her high, his mouth seals around her nipple, sucking it in only to let it out with an audible popping sound, “Like the idea that people would see the marks I leave on you? Not gonna lie, I’d love the idea of fucking you a couple more times tonight, making you full so you’d leak me while you stand there tomorrow, pretending not to squirm when you feel my cum running down your legs.”

He gets light headed at the idea. 

“Fuck—” Y/N groans and her pussy clenches at hearing him say dirty things. 

The idea is well received, apparently. 

Dean laughs, sucks at her cleavage, draws blood to the surface.

He pulls back to admire his work and she begins to rock on top of him harder, her nails scratching at his shoulder. Apparently the marking idea is a two way street but Dean doesn’t mind it either.

“I’ll fuck you later in bed too, taking you from behind, spanking your ass red and raw, leaving hand prints on your sweet little ass, huh?”

“Oh god,” She’s clenching around him some more and fuck, he can’t hold himself back anymore either, spills hot and hard into her. 

“Christ,” Dean huffs out with a chuckle, “I thought I could hold out longer but I guess it’s better that way, because now I can fuck you longer when we’re out of the tub.”

She’s about to get off him but he holds her back, pulls her down, arms wrapping around her body, “No, you don’t get off me now. Gotta keep my cock inside, plucking you up.”

Instead of a frown, he gets a smile, it’s warm and wide and she kisses him, her hands stroking at his scruff. “I can’t wait for tomorrow,” She whispers against his lips and Dean has to smile at that too. 

_ And sometimes _ , Dean thinks,  _ sometimes he really doesn’t know what he did in his life to deserve someone like her. _

  
  



End file.
